Wildflowers
by Gerald Tarrant and Quicksilver
Summary: A little girl is saved from drowning by her


_Gundam Wing is property of Sotsu Agency, Bandai Studios, and TV Asahi. Sainan no Kekka and all original characters and plot copyright 2000 by Quicksilver and Gerald Tarrant. Please ask permission before reposting._

  
**SHIN KIDOU SENKI GUNDAM WING**

SAINAN NO KEKKA  
Wildflowers: Trowa

_"So sad that you love her like the stars above…"  
--Gavin Friday, Angel_

  
The tree branch wobbled as the little girl's grip slipped slightly, and she clung to it, terrified. Below, the river rushed over boulders and curved around the bend in the rocky bed with a tremendous roar. She couldn't scream. She wanted to, but Mama said that bears lived in the forest, and wolves. If she screamed, they might come and eat her. So she held on tightly, praying that maybe Mama would come out of the trees and rescue her, or maybe an angel. Papa had believed in angels.

She was afraid to die.

"Mama…" she whimpered. "Mama…" The wind murmured through the trees and the branch shook and she couldn't help the terrified cry that escaped her throat.

"Don't move!" a voice called behind her, and she froze, feeling the wind dash her tears away and she hardly dared to breathe. Was she imagining things? 

"Pa…Papa?" she whispered.

"Hold on," the voice instructed, and her heart leapt and plummeted at the same time. It wasn't her Papa…Papa's voice had been deeper, older. But she wasn't dreaming. An angel? Could this be one of the angels that he always talked about?

"I'm coming for you," the voice said, this time closer, over the roaring of the river. "The branch is going to move a bit. Just hold on."

"Papa," she sobbed, hugging her flimsy perch to her chest and feeling the branch bend and shake. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the angel to come to her, waiting for him to lift her up with his wings so they could fly to solid ground.

But instead she felt a hand reach tentatively around her and grasp her around the waist and then she was pulled towards land. Her hands caught on the rough bark of the tree branch, but she let herself be dragged along, hardly daring to look down until she felt the firm earth beneath her fingers. Tears leaked from under her eyelids and she hugged herself tightly, rocking back and forth.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded mutely, and gentle hands placed themselves on her. "Let me look at you."

Brilliant green eyes peered into her own from under long, mussed brown bangs, and she blinked at him, her tears ceasing. He was young…not much older than Marc. Not an angel after all. She felt a stab of disappointment.

"You're not an angel," she said accusingly.

To her surprise, he smiled slightly. "I never said I was. Are you all right?"

"I wanna go home," she said, ignoring his question, pushing herself shakily to her feet. They were in the field of wildflowers by the river, and they were in bloom. 

"Where do you live?"

"That way." Pointing. "Over there behind the trees." Reaching down into the flowers, she spotted a bright red one and grasped it, pulling it firmly by the roots. It came up in a shower of dirt.

"Can you get home by yourself?"

She nodded, then hesitated. "You can come if you want."

He had a pack by his foot, which she hadn't noticed before. He slung it on his back. "I'd better not. I don't want to be a bother to your family."

"Mama doesn't mind," she said. Running to him, she pulled on his hand. "And Marc is away at school." Grasping his hand, she pried apart his fingers and dropped the grubby flower into it. "Here. I'm giving you a present."

He looked down at the flower in his hand, seemed to hesitate, looking back over his shoulder, then gave her another shadowy smile. "All right. I'll just drop on by. I'm sure your mother is worried about you."

The sheep were bleating behind the house again as the girl pulled open the unlocked door. "Mama! I'm home!" There was no answer, and she signaled to the boy to wait while she pulled off her shoes, ran through the house. It was empty.

"Mama must have gone to market," she said, returning to the entrance. "You can come in, I guess."

"Thank you," he responded in a low voice, placing his pack carefully by the door. "I'll only stay a few minutes."

The front door creaked open. "Jacqueline?"

She turned and had just enough time to see her mother step into the house before she was engulfed in a tight embrace.

"Jacqueline! Where have you been? I've been looking ALL OVER for you! You made me so worried! I-"

"He's an angel, Mama," she said, struggling out of the tight hug. "He rescued me."

The boy smiled, shaking his head. "Just a traveler passing by. She was on a tree branch over that river, and I thought she might need help getting back on land."

Her mother put a hand to her heart. "Thank God…you don't know how worried I've been these past few hours…I was just in town looking for her. I thought she might have gone to the market or the school…" She turned around, waving a finger. "And you! You, young lady! What do you think you were-"

"I was just picking flowers," the little girl mumbled, staring at her feet. "And there was a pretty one on the branch…"

"She's safe now, ma'am," the boy cut in, and then smiled again, with those brilliant eyes. "I'm glad to have been of service." He held out one hand, and she saw that he had picked a bunch of wildflowers. "For you, as a gift. As a lowly traveler, it's all I could think of."

Her mother rushed over to him, engulfing him in an embrace as well. "Thank you…thank you so much. How can I ever repay you?" Stepping back, she examined him, the words tumbling from her mouth. "You look hungry….you haven't eaten? Do you want food? You can stay the night. Please, make yourself at home." Rushing around the kitchen, pulling out cups and plates. "We're just about to eat…I'd be honored if you'd join us."

"Of course," he said. The little girl watched him. He seemed very quiet. She scampered over to him, climbing up into the seat of the wooden chair he was leaning against as he watched her mother, amused.

"Mama always gets like this when she's excited," she whispered in his ear. "She likes you."

"Oh? Well, I'm glad." He still sounded amused.

Her mother placed a block of cheese and a pitcher of fresh milk on the table next to the vase in the center, where she had placed the flowers. "Sit down…sit down…what's your name, young man?"

He seemed to pause again. "You can call me Trois," he said finally, taking the proffered chair and pouring his glass half full of milk. "I'm just passing through…I shouldn't be long."

"Oh no!" The aroma of stew filled the kitchen. Her mother's face was red, the way it always was when she was cooking. The smell of fresh grass drifted through the open window. "No, indeed…you saved my Jacqueline. Please, spend the night, at least. It's getting dark and I don't want you walking out there alone!"

"Pretty sunset," she said, tugging on his sleeve and pointing. He patted her on the head.

"Very pretty." Turning to her mother. "This is a very nice house you have here."

"Oh…don't think anything of it. Nothing at all. My husband's family owned it, before we were married, and we inherited it after his mother died."

"Where's your husband now?"

"He…died. Four years ago, when Jacqueline was five years old. Just before the War began." Her mother hardly paused as she reached for the bowls, spooning thick stew into each of them. The rich smell made her stomach rumble.

"Oh…I'm sorry." The boy's tone was apologetic. "I didn't mean to…"

Her mother waved away the apology. "You didn't know. It's all right. We get by. Marc is at school in Switzerland and I'm sending Jacqueline when she gets old enough. We'll probably sell the house…" She laughed. "I don't know why I'm telling you this."

"I'm honored that you confide in me," he said quietly, taking the stew bowl with a little bow. "I'm always willing to listen."

"He was trying to save a little boy, actually…and he drowned in the river…" Her voice was distant.

"The river behind the house, ma'am?"

"The one you saved my little girl from today. Yes." A shadow of a smile. "He was always very brave, my Robert."

"Bravery is a wonderful thing," the boy said. "Your husband was a noble man."

Something about his tone caused the girl to look at him curiously, but he said nothing more, and she was hungry. The wildflowers bobbed in the wind and she watched them, fascinated by their merry dance.

"Eat your stew, Jacqueline," her mother said.

"Pretty flowers," she said, blinking wide-eyed at the boy, and he smiled at her.

"I have a sister who likes flowers. Whenever we go somewhere with lots of flowers I always try to buy her some."

She perked up. "You have a sister? Where is she?"

His smile was a little sad. "She's at home now. I have to make a journey, but I know she's waiting for me when I return."

"Papa said that I had guardian angels," she said seriously. Her spoon scraped against the bottom of the bowl. "He said they lived in the field of flowers by the river and that when I was in trouble, they would come help me."

"I see," he murmured quietly. "Am I your guardian angel, then?"

"You don't have wings," she said doubtfully. "But you came and helped me."

"Jacqueline," her mother chided. "That's enough."

He smiled. "I don't mind." Placing a hand on her shoulder. "It's nice to relax once in a while."

"It is," she agreed. "Say…have you heard about that Gundam crisis? I figured you might…since you're not from around here. We don't get much reliable news…"

"Well, it's true," he said. His demeanor hadn't changed, but for some reason his voice seemed suddenly cold. "If that's what you want to know."

Her mother shook her head. "Terrible, terrible. The war's over. People should just live and let live…leave other people alone."

"Some people don't feel that way, unfortunately," he said quietly. "A pity. People are going to get hurt."

"Ah, well. I suppose some people will have to learn the hard way…I feel sorry for the pilots. The poor boys never meant any harm. Robert used to say that unlikely heroes are always the most underappreciated."

He watched her with those green eyes. The little girl stared, fascinated. "Do you believe that?"

"Of course I do." Her mother got up from the table, gathering the dishes, her brusque manner putting an end to the conversation. "But enough of that depressing subject. Where are you from, Trois?"

"Up north," he said evasively. "I don't really have a family…my sister and I move around a lot."

"Does she take care of you?" the little girl wanted to know.

There was a silence. He looked thoughtful. "Yes," he finally said. "She does."

The boy pushed his chair back and her mother hastily placed the dishes on the counter. "Here…let me prepare a bed for you. The house is rather small…I'm sorry we can't-"

"That's all right," he broke in gently. "My home isn't large either. And I enjoy your company."

Her mother beamed. "Well…that's very kind of you. Let me get you settled…"

It took about fifteen minutes for her mother to emerge back into the kitchen, where the little girl was amusing herself by blowing on the petals of the wildflowers in the vase on the table. The sun's last rays cast long shadows on the walls and floor and her mother moved to the sink to wash the dishes.

"It's time for bed, Jacqueline," she said. The little girl was still playing with the flowers. The boy was taking a bath.

"But I-"

"No buts," her mother said firmly, just as the boy emerged into the kitchen, his brown hair wet. He had pushed it back from his forehead and he had a towel hanging around his neck, which flopped down over his hair as he bent to pick up his pack.

She followed him, curiously, to her small room, where her mother had prepared some blankets on the floor. "Are you sleeping in my room?" she said, peeking in from behind the door.

"Yes I am. Do you mind?"

She shook her head. "If you're my guardian angel, then it's all right."

His brilliant eyes, the color of the grass in the field of flowers, regarded her with that silent amusement. "What if I'm not?"

"Well," she said, stepping out boldly from behind the door. "If you weren't, you couldn't have rescued me, right?"

"I suppose," he said, still watching her as she climbed into bed. Her mother moved to her side to tuck her in, turning out the lights and kissing her lightly on the forehead.

"Good night, dear. Good night, Trois," she added as she left the room. "There's some bread out on the counter for you in the morning…in case you're awake before we are."

"Thank you," his quiet voice murmured, and the door closed. She looked over to see him still sitting up.

"Are you gonna go to bed?" She sat up too. "Or do you sleep? Papa said angels don't sleep."

"I'm going to sleep," he said. "I'm just thinking."

" 'Bout what?"

The field of wildflowers was black and silver in the darkness and the moon was reflected in his green eyes. She could see him turning over responses in his head. "I'm making a wish," he said at last. "For my sister. To make sure she's ok."

"You really miss her, huh? I miss my brother too, but I guess that's not the same."

"Why not?" he said. A rustle of cloth as he turned over, slid in between the blankets.

"Well, it must be different when you live in heaven, right?"

"Of course," he soothed. "You should go to bed now. There's another day waiting for you."

She yawned and lay down obediently.

"Trois?"

"What is it?"

"You'll…be here when I wake up? Right?"

The breeze whispered gently through the open window. "I'll always be with you," he said. "I'm your guardian angel, remember?"

She woke in the middle of the night, knowing there was something important that had happened that day, but she couldn't remember what. She turned over, sat up. The moon was still shining and the window was still open. The heady smell of wildflowers drifted into the room and suddenly she remembered, turned to see if he was still asleep, and blinked as her gaze met a pile of neatly stacked blankets.

Climbing out of bed onto the cool floor, she stood there for a moment, looking at the blankets. The door was still closed.

"Why did you leave?" she said out loud. Moonrays danced across the walls. Maybe he had flown out of the window back to heaven while she was asleep. Angels did that, Papa had told her. 

Maybe he really had been an angel, only hiding his wings. 

He must have been an angel.

Something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention and it took her only a moment to realize that it was a bunch of wildflowers, neatly arranged beside her pillow. 

Back to Sainan no Kekka 


End file.
